


all that is due (will be due in due time)

by thorbiased



Series: seer!thor [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: :D, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Better Than Canon, But most importantly..., But why would it be, Canon Divergence, Gen, Heimdall is Thor’s Actual Father, Hurt/Comfort, Not Age of Ultron Compliant, Odin is a Terrible Parent!, Seer!Thor, So is Steve, Thor Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-30 06:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorbiased/pseuds/thorbiased
Summary: After the young witch attacks the Avengers, Thor is left with strange and uncontrollable powers. Thor must fighg to understand his newfound abilities, fight against Ultron, and fight to not succumb to the rather dangerous side effects of seer abilities.





	all that is due (will be due in due time)

Thor’s nursery had a wide, circular window on the far wall that bathed the room in sunlight during the day and moonlight during the night. Creamy white curtains framed the edges, giving the room a heavenly glow. It had been Frigga to request it. She had always preferred natural light, she felt it connected indoors and out in a way nothing else really could. 

She was with him there now, under that same window. Frigga watched, a smile dancing on her lips, as Thor toddled across the floor in front of her. She sat with her legs thrown out beside her, the flowing blue fabric of her dress pooled around her leg as if it were liquid. Her son giggled as he stumbled towards her. He reached out with chubby arms and fingers. Frigga’s hands met his. Thor gripped her fingers as tight as he could manage. 

“Mama,” he said, bright eyes trained on his mother’s face. A toothy smile lit up his sweet face. In fact, Frigga was hard pressed to remember a time when her boy wore a frown. “Up?”

Frigga obliged him and lifted him into her arms. Pressing him against her chest, she wrapped him in her embrace. Her slim fingers threaded through his blonde curls. Her eyes drifted shut as she idly hummed an old shanty she knew from days she could not quite remember. Her fingers stilled, and her voice fell when she felt magic buzz in the air. She tilted her head. Thor was young to have such a strong seidr, was she sensing something else?  _ Someone _ else? 

With Thor still nestled in her arms, she prodded the energy. Her brows furrowed deeper. It  _ was _ Thor’s seidr she felt. The power was so similar to her own. It was more… _ rambunctious _ than that of the queen’s, more wild. Untamed like the lightning she knew Thor would one day command. But underneath all that there was a calm—the steady pulse of seer abilities. 

Frigga smiled to herself. Her golden boy, a seer. Odin wouldn’t be thrilled, no, but she was. Oh, she was. It was no matter what her husband would say or think. She would just have to convince him that Thor’s abilities would only help him and Asgard, not harm them. So long as Thor was able to grow in his abilities, he would be safe. Frigga shuddered to think what would happen if Thor’s powers went unchecked, untrained. But she wouldn’t let that happen, no. She would train him and keep his powers from hurting him or others. 

She hoisted Thor over her head. “Ha! My boy,” she said, bringing him down to kiss his cheek, “you’re going to be such a great seer. I know it. I  _ feel  _ it.”

Thor giggled again, just happy that his mum was tossing him about. His hair a halo around his head with the sun beaming down on it, Thor plopped his hands on his mother’s cheeks, delighting in the squish against his fingers. Frigga pressed her lips to his curls. The joy in her chest bubbled like champagne. 

There that joy stayed, unmovable, lodged in her chest, until the news crossed her lips to Odin’s ears. 

She might as well have told him Thor had pledged his loyalty to Laufey himself. 

The throne room was silent save for the thunderous pounding of Frigga’s heart in her chest. The sliver of light that lived in the Allfather’s eyes burned out. Anxiety twisted like a dagger in Frigga’s belly. Odin hadn’t yet spoken a word, and still Frigga felt the need to protect Thor. 

“Thor will  _ not _ practice anything but battle,” Odin barked, his voice like a sharp breeze. In a flash, he was on his feet and heading down the stairs of the throne room to stand in front of his wife. He grabbed Frigga’s wrists and squeezed just a little too tight. “I’ll see to it.” 

Chills swept over the all-mother’s arms as Odin pushed past her. But, she would not stand frozen. She rushed after her husband, her arms outstretched in a vain attempt to stop him. With a flick of the king’s wrist, two guards stepped in front of the exit, blocking Frigga’s way out of the throne room. 

Tears stung her eyes as she thrashed in their arms. “Let me  _ go _ , I demand it!” she shouted, beating her fists against the impenetrable armor of the guards. 

Odin disappeared down a corridor, far from Frigga’s reach and sight. The queen slumped to the ground, her cheeks wet, hands shaking and bruised. Physically, Thor was out of her reach, but maybe not magically. She shut her eyes and called on her seidr. Frigga was a powerful witch, but not powerful enough to stop Odin entirely. She could, however, weaken his spell so that one day Thor’s powers might return to him. 

The guards, loyal to the king but sympathetic to the queen, stood by without challenge when Frigga’s hands started to glow. She whispered spells in her native language, letting her seidr flow through the air to where Thor played with his nanny. 

“I’m sorry I could not do more, my son,” Frigga cried, her voice hoarse and quiet. 

“I can only hope you one day find your abilities on your own.” 

_ A millennia later…  _

The quinjet was the height of luxury, top of the line, the most advanced aircraft Midgard had to offer. Or so Thor was told. It seemed crowded to him. Maybe it was because the Avengers were so tightly packed into the small area outside the cockpit. Thor longed for a bit of solitude, even if it meant hiding in the restroom for hours on end. Thor was considering it, actually. He turned his gaze to the little room in the corner, then back to his teammates. 

Bruce was lying on the floor shivering despite the loose sweatshirt he wore, Natasha was sitting with her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped tight around her shins, her eyes far away and clouded with tears, Steve paced the short distance from wall to wall, wringing his hands together. 

So much pain. So, so cramped. 

Thor took a gulp of oxygen and rushed to the bathroom. A hoard of buzzing insects swarmed under his skin and in his head and across his vision. His whole body was on fire. He leaned against the sink, his hands gripping the sides hard enough to bend the metal. 

This was that witch’s doing, Thor guessed. Her powers had done this to him. But no one else seemed to be so affected. Perhaps he was cursed. He looked up at his reflection. He didn’t _ look  _ cursed. What does one look like when cursed? 

Turning on the faucet, Thor sighed. He dipped his hands under the cool water and splashed it on his face. It didn’t do anything more than soak the front of his uniform. His whole body was still abuzz. 

Three short knocks came in rapid succession at the door. 

“You okay, Thor?” Steve asked, his voice muffled. 

Thor stepped back, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m fine,” he lied, staring at himself in the mirror again. He was shaking from head to toe, sweating bullets, looking like he could collapse at any second. “I’m coming out now.”

There was a shuffle behind the door; Steve stepping away, Thor guessed. Pulling himself together as best he could, he opened the door. Steve’s arms were folded over his chest, his brows drawn, his lips pursed. 

Thor flashed a shaky smile. “Did you need something?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay,” Steve replied smoothly, “You don't look okay.” 

Thor’s face fell. There was no fooling the captain, it seemed. “I’m sure it’s just a side effect,” he said, shrugging. 

Steve’s face twisted in confusion. “What’s a side effect?”

“The shaking...are the rest of you not shaking as well?” 

Steve grabbed Thor’s wrist and lifted his hand up to his face. It trembled still, even locked in Steve’s grip. Worry swooped in Thor’s belly. “Thor, how long have you been like this?” 

“Since the witch attacked us.” Thor tugged his hand away from Steve and wrapped his arms around his middle. Heat rushed to his cheeks, but not from embarrassment. Fever, maybe? “Is it hot in here?” 

“No,” Steve said flatly. “When we get to the safe house, you need to be checked out.”

Thor gave a hearty chuckle, the kind to make the vikings of old proud. “It’ll pass, Steve. I’ll be f—“

A blizzard flashed across Thor’s vision. Whatever forces holding him up vacated the quinjet, and he collapsed. Steve yelped, struggling under the sudden weight of a thunder god. His boots slipped back, but he righted himself. 

“Tony!” Steve shouted, “Come quick!”

Tony appeared in the corridor in a flash, his eyes wide. “What happened?”

Thor wondered the same thing. His vision grew steadily worse, clear sharp imagery faded to a blurred reflection of reality. There was an invader in his mind, clawing Thor’s control to shreds. Something wished to take over as desperately as Thor wished to hold on. 

His gaze turned up to Steve, but instead of finding the captain staring back, an entirely different scene appeared before him. 

_ The sky exploded above him, white hot flames and metal shattered the quiet calm above the alps. The air, once cold with altitude, was a furnace on Thor’s skin. It burned, Thor screamed. Shrapnel, rocks, dirt, cement fell around him. Thor tumbled from the sky like Icarus. Unconsciousness settled in on him. What had he done?  _

The vision was over just as abruptly as it began. Steve and Tony hovered over Thor once more. The former gently lowered Thor to the floor. Thor’s head lolled to the side, his flushed cheek pressing against the cool metal. His vision was blurry, head swimming, and limbs useless. He managed shallow and shaky breaths but little more. 

Tony cupped the back of his head, his thumb gently massaging Thor’s temples as Steve rummaged through a bright red medpack at his side. Thor shut his eyes, focused on breathing. He saw destruction, death, last resorts. A whimper escaped his lips. 

“No,” he mumbled, his brows drawn. Tony shushed him, then told something to Steve. Thor couldn’t even hear. Those images, they matched onto his soul,siphoning his strength and sanity with reckless abandon. “No, please, no.”

A sharp prick in his arm, a drug that could fell a full sized bull flooded his veins. Thor didn’t struggle. The shaking didn’t stop until darkness replaced the visions in his mind. The sky fell in shards around Thor as he collapsed to the ground. He saw Steve above him, and then flames licking at the clouds, and then nothing. 

* * *

_ Electric blue lightning clouded his vision. Shouts echoed in the air, but Thor paid them no mind. Mjolnir slammed into the metal beneath him, charging the chamber with unmatched power. Something lied below the chamber with crimson skin and a jewel embedded in its forehead. Thor looked up to see his teammates, joined by the witch and a boy with silver hair, staring in horror at what he’d done. Tony looked shocked but not as angry as the rest. He stared, not at Thor, but what Thor had created. Despite the team’s stares of indignation and anger, Thor felt zero remorse. Light burst from the chamber, and— _

Thor awoke with a startled gasp. His breath caught in his throat as the vision shook him loose. The scene melted around him, revealing an unfamiliar room with soft pink walls filled with late golden afternoon light. His brows furrowed. Confusion replaced terror. He turned his head. Tony sat slumped in a chair beside the bed, snoring softly, looking a few seconds away from falling to the floor. 

Thor sat in silence, in thought. The sun was warm on his skin, despite the chill in his soul. He was plagued by visions of haunting futures. He wished with everything in him that these visions were simply tricks by an evil sorceress. But, deep down, Thor knew they were not. They were real, tangible, unchanging promises of what was to come. 

Thor remembered his mother well. Her laugh, her smile, the way it felt to be held in her comforting embrace. His mother had been a seer, one of powerful Venir ancestry. While her power was more often used in solitude, when war might come or when other threats awaited Asgard.

But Thor remembered one instance. He’d been small, though he couldn’t recall his exact age. His mother had a vision. Her whole body had gone stiff, her skin was cold, her eyes were glassy. It had frightened Thor deeply, to see her space out the way she had. The way she looked at him after it passed frightened him deeper still. He wondered now if she’d seen his future, perhaps her own. 

Maybe she’d seen this exact moment, of her son contemplating his own abilities. Maybe she’d seen what would come after. Maybe she’d seen something else, something more terrifying than this moment or any of the ones that had come before. Thor shuddered to think of it. To think he’d inherited her terrible, beautiful curse of a power. 

But though he feared it, he knew that he had. The power lived in him, buzzing under his skin, pulsing in his veins. As foreign as the power felt, Thor knew it was just unsettled. For whatever reason, Thor had not shown the abilities early. 

_ Wait.  _

The witch. Her powers. Whatever she’d done, it unleashed Thor’s own abilities. Thor swallowed thickly, a frown on his lips. He’d heard of magic being bound before, but normally for small children who couldn’t control it yet. If his own magic had been bound, too, then that begged countless questions. If Thor’s abilities had been repressed, who had repressed them? And more importantly— _ why?  _

Thor could’ve sat on that bed for hours had Tony not woken. A little indignant noise made its way from his throat, like he was annoyed with himself for waking up. His big brown eyes popped open, and he stretched his whole body like a cat, arms raised over his head and toes pointed as straight as a ballerina’s. 

“You’re up, I see,” Tony commented as he retracted back into himself. “Feeling better?”

“I had another vision,” Thor said instead of answering the question. “I saw you in it.”

Tony straightened in his seat. “Oh, yeah?” he asked casually, but Thor heard the slightest waiver in his voice. 

“Nothing bad,” Thor said, shaking his head. He shifted in the bed, pulling his knees close to his chest. “I believe we had made something together.” 

“Like an arts and crafts type deal?”

“Like...a weapon.”

“Oh, lovely.”

Thor ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t describe what I saw, not well. It was cloudy, fuzzy. But you were there. All I know…” Thor sighed, “Whatever I did. Whatever  _ we  _ did. I didn't regret it. Even though the team didn’t seem thrilled about it.”

Tony was quiet for a moment. Thor didn’t press him. It would’ve been strange to be told you were a part of some future you had no control over. So Thor let Tony think. After a while, Thor guessed Tony was not going to speak, so he changed the subject. 

“Where are we, anyway?” Thor asked, glancing out of the window above the bed he’d woken in. Beyond it there was a bright green landscape of long grass and wildflowers. Goats grazed in a pen beside a faded red barn. A farm, then. But who…

“Clint’s brother’s farmhouse,” Tony explained, though it wasn’t much of an explanation since it only raised more questions. Tony was a smart man, though, and he answered Thor’s next question before it had even crossed his lips. “No, I didn’t know Clint had a brother either. And no, I don’t fully trust the guy. But here we are in his house, and I don’t think we’ve got room to complain.”

Thor hummed. “Does Clint’s secret brother have food on his secret farm?” 

“He does indeed.”

* * *

The following days passed in a blur. Thor fought through his waking hours to not succumb to his uncontrollable powers, and tossed and turned through the night when he couldn’t stop the visions from coming. He helped the team as best he could with planning their upcoming battle, and forced himself to ignore what his visions told him about the future. They did not need to know every detail of how the young quickster would die, nor did they need to know that Nick Fury would be their surprise savior in the end. Thor lied and told them that his visions were hard to understand and not worth examining. It shut them up, at least. 

The battle came. Thor’s many visions came to fruition. Ultron was defeated and the team regrouped and settled in at the new compound. Tony offered Thor a room, but Thor declined with a promise to return whenever he could. With a sharp crack of thunder and an explosion of color, Thor left Midgard and headed to Asgard, where he could find his long-awaited answers. 

“Heimdall!” Thor shouted before the warm glow of the bifrost had even died around him. He rushed towards the gatekeeper, his arms open wide. Heimdall locked him in a tight embrace. Thor felt as if he were a young child again, finding comfort in Heimdall’s presence after his tutor was too boring or Odin had scolded him too harshly. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, as well. At least in person, anyway,” Heimdall laughed. His eyes softened as he took in Thor’s weary appearance. “We have much to discuss.”

Thor‘s face fell. The air shifted; the reunion was no longer as happy. “Aye. We do.”

Heimdall and Thor turned towards the rainbow bridge and Asgard beyond it. Shivers ran down Thor’s spine. Hard as he’d fought to ignore them, Thor still had to blink away the visions he’d seen of his beloved home up in flames. He saw the pristine bifrost beneath his boots turn blood splattered and cracked, he saw the distant golden palace fall to fire and ash. 

Thor shook his head, pulling his focus back to the present. He desperately hoped that Heimdall would have answers for him, ones that meant the visions he’d seen were just his imagination, that there was nothing to fret about. But even as he thought it, he knew that it was wishful thinking. Half of his visions had already come true: Sokovia’s destruction, Vision’s creation, and on and on. This was his life now. His abilities had been unlocked. Wild and uncontrolled as they were, they were his. He would have to take them and adjust to them just as he would to anything else. 

“I must warn you, Thor,” Heimdall said, breaking Thor’s rather dark train of thought, “The Allfather will not be pleased with your rediscovered abilities. It will be wise to avoid him, if possible.”

Thor nodded. He’d already guessed as such. His father, though he was sensitive to Seidr himself, did not look fondly on magic users. He much preferred battles of blade or fist to those of spell or potion. Thor had once been like him, but time had much changed the prince. He now saw the value of magic—his own and others’. 

“Noted. How has Asgard been, then? With the...affairs and such.” 

Heimdall stopped. The action itself demanded Thor to stop alongside him. Thor’s words died on his lips as a calm hush fell over the two men. They stood in the middle of bifrost, a sharp wind billowed their capes and hair, the sea below them crashed and made hearing difficult. Heimdall spoke nonetheless. 

“Thor, we’ve known each other for too long for small talk. I know why you’re here.” Heimdall shifted his weight and folded his arms over his chest. “You want answers.”

Thor nodded. “I do.” 

“The answers you seek will not be easy to hear. Your magic was bound for reasons that won’t be easy to explain. Do you understand?” 

Thor’s stomach clenched, but he agreed nonetheless. “I do.”

“Then let’s go somewhere we will not be heard.”

* * *

The deepest vaults of Asgard’s libraries had likely not been touched in centuries. A thick layer of dust, cobwebs, and dead insects coated the tables and shelves of the abandoned study. Thor grimaced at the sight. Heimdall didn’t flinch. He moved through the freezing halls with precision and decidedness. 

“This study was not always abandoned,” Heimdall began. An air of solemnity fell over his face, his tone shifted from conversational to something much more serious. “It was once home to the royal sorcerer. Can you feel the seidr in the air, boy?”

Thor paused. He let his eyes drift shut, his mind clear, and  _ yes _ , there it was. Pulsing steady underneath the age and decay. Magic. Thor’s eyes popped back open, and he grinned. 

“I felt it,” he said, as excited as a young boy being presented a gift, “I felt it, Heimdall.”

Heimdall’s smile was brief. “Odin decided the sorcerer was unnecessary, and banished him from the palace,” he continued. He walked to the back of the room, where a bookshelf, loaded so that the wood had begun to bow in the middle, stood. His eyes roamed the shelf, his fingers running gently over the spines. He pulled back the thickest book, and the bookshelf spun to reveal a hidden room. This time, the room did not appear abandoned. The seidr pulsed as loud and present as a heartbeat. Eternally burning torches cast long shadows on the small room. In the middle of the room, there was a soul forge, much like the one the sorceresses used, but different in a way Thor couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

“It was crafted for Bor himself,” Heimdall explained, brushing his hand over the cool stone of the top. He looked back at Thor. “It works only for those of his bloodline.”

Thor stepped forward. “Right, well,” he said, his voice shaky. The bookshelf slammed shut, and he jumped a foot into the air, muscles taunt, breathing heavy. 

Heimdall chuckled. “Relax, Thor,” he said, squeezing his shoulder, “Have a seat. I’ll explain everything.”

Eyeing the bookshelf warily, Thor made his way to the soul forge and sat on its edge. Heimdall rested his weight against a table top across from Thor. For a second, neither spoke, then Heimdall cleared his throat and began to give Thor the answers he wanted. He told him of Frigga’s elation at discovering a young Thor’s abilities, of the excitement that Heimdall hadn’t needed Allsight to see. Thor smiled at that, even though tears stung his eyes. Anger quickly replaced that bittersweet warmth in his chest when Heimdall explained how Odin had taken Thor’s abilities, despite Frigga’s demands. 

Anger flashed in Thor’s eyes. He slid off the soul forge and slammed to the floor. Fists clenched at his sides, he growled, “Where is he?” 

“Calm down,” Heimdall ordered, his hands outstretched in front of his chest to stop Thor if he needed to. Thor was wound up like a spring, with fury coursing through his veins. Heimdall pressed his hands against the prince’s chest, forcing him back to the forge. “I know you’re angry, but going up there now with your magic so unstable and dangerous would only prove Odin’s point.”

Thor felt himself deflate. His anger simmered and fall flat. Heimdall was right, and Thor told him as such. He sat back on the soul forge, letting his feet dangle over the edge. “What should we do, then? How do I control my…”

Thor’s voice broke off. The warmth in his cheeks drained, and chills swept over his arms. He cursed as his body began to tremble. He turned tired, scared eyes to Heimdall, who rushed to his side. 

“Breathe, Thor,” Heimdall said, guiding him down against the soul forge, “Just breathe.”

Thor did that, focusing on inhaling and exhaling and not on his complete physical discomfort. Over the past few days, Thor had taken to letting the premonitions come as they like instead of fighting them. No matter how deeply they terrified him or how desperately he wanted to avoid what they entailed, it was less painful to submit. 

He slipped into lucidity, resting on the edge of conscious and unconscious. He was only just aware of Heimdall powering up the soul forge before his vision pulled him completely under, and he lost touch with the present. 

_ The infinity stones again, this time drawn with a cartographer’s precise hand. They were painted nicely, the colors not as faded by time as the other maps Thor had come across. Sadly, Thor was not evaluating the map for beauty, he needed it for legitimacy. In his search for the infinity stones, he’d come across countless false maps. This one was promising, though. It had the locations of the mind, space, and reality stones correct. The power stone, it claimed, was being held on Xandar. If true, Thor didn’t have to worry about that one. The soul stone’s location was listed simply as  _ unknown.  _ Thor slid it back to the merchant and shook his head.  _

Thor returned with a sharp gasp. His heart beat erratically in his chest, but one look at Heimdall’s calm and focused expression, and he felt his nerves calm. His apt fingers shifted matter above Thor’s head. 

“You alright?” 

“Mhmm.” Exhaling long and slow, Thor reached up and ran his hands over his face.He lay there for a moment, washed in the soft amber glow of the energy that swam above him, thinking that the color reminded him of Heimdall’s eyes. Heimdall didn’t bother him. Instead, he worked in silence, poking and prodding at the light. Thor was grateful for the momentary reprieve. 

“I’ve never understood how these things work,” Thor said after he’d recovered, “Are you... _ reading _ all that?”

Heimdall smiled. “I’m examining your seidr,” he explained. He pointed to a strand of mist that wasn’t orange like the rest, but instead an electric blue. “That’s your ability to summon lightning. And this grey bit is weather manipulation.”

“What are my seer abilities, then?”

Heimdall moved the mist around a bit, then revealed a shifting mass of deep red, angry magic. Thor’s eyes widened at the sight. His heart plummeted. The crimson energy infested everything around it, violently turning the warm and gentle orange to furious garnet. 

“This is what uncontrolled magic does to your soul,” Heimdall almost whispered, “You’ve never had the time to learn the limits of your magic. You don’t know how to control it, which is why it so violently takes effect.”

Thor swallowed the lump in his throat. Fear pooled in the pit of his belly like lead. His voice wavered when he spoke, “Am I going to be okay?”

Heimdall powered down the forge. He took his time. With slow, precise motion, he took Thor’s hands in his. “I promise you, you’re going to be just fine. Even I know that, and  _ I  _ can’t see the future.”

Emotion bubbled up in Thor’s chest. He sat up and fell into Heimdall’s arms as he lost the fight to keep from crying. Face buried in Heimdall’s shoulder, Thor felt himself relax for the first time since his power had been awakened. He took a shaky breath, and shut his eyes. 

And, he noticed with a smile, he only saw darkness. 

**Author's Note:**

> first and foremost, I’ve got some people to thank! To Sarah, this fic wouldn’t exist without you helping me hammer out the details of Thor’s abilities and why they would be bound and all of those intricate plot details that needed to be figured out. Thanks for that babe. Ily! To Ash and Erykah and Trudy and Soroka, thank you for hyping me up and telling me how exicited you were to read the final product. I love y’all for that <3. As y’all readers might can tell this fic was a labor of love that’s been cooking in my mind for so long and I’m so excited to finally have it out. Please leave comments and kudos! Much love!!!


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